Chapter 4 #2
I couldn’t breathe, but he ground into my mouth anyway, spurred on by my tightening grip on his shaft.
I had to relax my jaw. As soon as the thought entered, I did. With work being so demanding, it’d been a while since I’d fucked around with anyone. Swallowing with his tip pushed against my throat made him gasp.
Slick gathered between my legs at an alarming rate, and I kept squeezing them together to satiate the ache.
“Swallow,” Sinclair ordered huskily. I did as he said, my throat working against his seizing tip. His hot cum slid down my throat, and I moaned, the taste filling my mouth, waking a needy urge in my gut.
Breathing with harsh pants that filled the room, he pulled away, and warmth jutted across my lips. Sinclair’s hand settled over mine, holding his shaft, and he spread the seed on my lips with his mushroom-shaped tip.
So suddenly, he let my hair go, and I fell onto my ass, sapped of energy. I heaved in breaths as he shoved his cock behind his jeans and zipped up. My heart thrummed, and I held still, trying not to focus on the pulsing desire in my core.
Sinclair turned his back to me and left the room without a glance. I blinked at his sudden departure, turning my attention to Elias, who sat on the couch, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
“We’re putting ourselves at risk by harboring you.”
I stayed quiet in the face of his words, knowing my life hung in the balance.
“You’ll do whatever is ordered of you.”
I dug my fingernails into my palm, the sting grounding me.
“Yes,” I whispered, not knowing whether he wanted a response, but giving one just in case. He stood, a look of disgust on his face.
“Stay in here—out of the way.” With that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
I remained so still, knowing I wasn’t free of them. Kyan stared at me, his attention roaming down my body, a leer in his gaze that caused my stomach to dip with need.
“Is there a bathroom I could use?” I blurted.
He jerked his chin toward the corner of the room. Opposite the large window were slim French doors, the frosted panes not allowing me to see through them.
Kyan looked at me once more, his almost-black irises sliding down my body, then he left, shutting me inside the room.
I slumped, like a puppet whose strings had been snipped, and immediately regretted it. Wincing, I straightened and rolled my aching shoulder. There hadn’t been any time to look at the wound. I crawled to the couch and leaned against it.
God, my arm hurts.
I exhaled slowly and lowered my elbow to remove the oversized leather jacket. It slid off with a bit of maneuvering.
Blood seeped through the arm of my sweater, turning the gray fabric splotchy. I carefully touched the still-damp, ripped cloth. Shit, was it worse than I thought?
I rolled onto my knees, accidentally placing my hand down. The same hand that had just come away red. The bright red smear on the white carpet stole my breath away quickly.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I tugged the other sleeve and rubbed it on the bloodspot, only spreading it.
I was already causing a problem. What if they used this as an excuse to force me to leave?
I stood quickly and rounded the couch. With a few hip bumps, I scooted it forward until the stain was covered. Hopefully, it wasn’t too obvious.
I grabbed the leather jacket and made my way to the bathroom. The iron handle was cold to the touch. I swung open the door, heading directly to the pristine double sink. It was made out of black granite with white swirled through the inkiness.
I had to move like a snail to remove my sweater. The sharp stabs were becoming so intense, my fingers were going numb.
To distract myself, I mentally combed through my research on Greymont Pack. The little I’d been able to find during background checks.
There was nothing on Elias or Kyan, but Sinclair?
I’d found his multiple misdemeanors for public indecency.
When I went to the women listed alongside him in the reports, I’d expected the worst, like domestic violence situations.
Instead, I’d been greeted by his fans. That was the best way to describe the women who were obsessed with him.
The Alpha enjoyed fucking with a crowd, and none of the women cared.
In fact, all they could talk about was how huge his cock was.
Other than being a well-known womanizer, the others’ records were pretty vanilla.
That was what bit me in the ass and got me fired from Candor.
When I peeled the fabric away from my arm, I hissed. It ripped part of what had scabbed over from the wound, and fresh blood trickled to my elbow. I’d have to get rid of the sweater, but I could use the other sleeve to bind the injury.
Months ago, I was a well-established journalist, now? I was houseless, jobless, and at the mercy of Greymont Pack.
Shadows returned, creeping over my thoughts and tempting me to curl into a ball. To never face the world. Gritting my teeth, I tore the last threads off the sleeve, hung it on the hook of the free-standing black towel cabinet, then turned on the shower.
As embarrassing as it was, I didn’t want to die. I just hoped I could hold onto my will to live after bringing myself so low.